


the prince and the puppy

by EKmisao, keio



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Cats, M/M, Puppies, cuteness, hopefully
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:18:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EKmisao/pseuds/EKmisao, https://archiveofourown.org/users/keio/pseuds/keio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is a puppy in the apartment domain ruled by the young princely cat Enjolras. Misunderstanding ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keio/gifts), [Stormberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormberry/gifts).



> EK: I like dogs. K can't stand them but likes cats. A weird conversation happened comparing Tveit to a cat and Blagden to a puppy, and this is the result. The first part is done by EK, the second by K. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.

The Owner lowered the puppy gently onto the floor. His paws touched the wooden paneling. 

He sniffed. Leftover canned food. Spaghetti sauce. Meatballs. Milk. Beer. Cheap wine. 

He wagged his tail. Beer and cheap wine. And meatballs. He was going to like this place. A lot. 

Anything was better than where he came from, a noisy place full of other strays and abandoned wanderers. He was glad to be there at all, him being such a stray, and so scruffy. But liking it more was better. 

The Owner sat on the floor in front of him and patted his head. “Sorry it’s not a big place,” the Owner said. “But I hope you like it.” 

Owner need not worry about that, he thought. He already did. 

Owner mussed his head. “You look French-y,” he said. “Not like a poodle, see, fancy-like. Just, um, comfortable, laid-back, and, um, French. I have a cat who’s very French, with the attitude, too. Don’t chase him around, okay? But I like your French-y-ness.” 

He tilted his head. That sounded like a good thing. 

The Owner look him over for a bit, gazing at the dark curls at his head and ears, rather mangled and unbrushed. The rest of him still had patches of thinned curled fur, where he used to scratch at the fleas. There were old bruises still at his haunches, leftovers from a fight with a labrador who did not know better.

"How about…hmmmm….Grantaire?" the Owner asked. 

He wagged his tail and woofed. He was not going to be a Blackie or a Brownie or a common name like that. He was going to be just a little bit special. He was really going to like being in this apartment. 

He looked around and sensed movement from the farther door. He tensed and stiffened. 

A young cat strutted into the living room. He was a tabby, pure-bred, high-born, and proud. Each pawstep on the wood panels was regal, royal. The cat’s head was raised, his eyes looking up, ignoring the masses including the Owner, while his tail fluttered stiffly like the royal flagpole. 

"Ah, thank you for gracing us with your presence, sir!" the Owner greeted the young cat. Owner reached for the cat’s head, but he tossed his head away from reach. 

Owner placed the puppy in front of the cat. “This is Enjolras, his highness,” Owner said. “I hope you get along with Grantaire, alright?” 

The young cat tossed his head. He then turned his back, his tail upraised as he strutted away. 

The puppy, however, was enthralled. His front legs slid to his sides until his jaw and ear hit the floor. 

He now lived with a purebred, and the prince had looked at him, really looked at him. 

He smiled as he slowly wagged his tail in happiness. 

He was going to like it here. 

..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

He’d smelt the Disturbance well before Human turned the key to the apartment, before the modest two bedroom set-up felt suddenly suffocating with the addition of the black bundle that now sat restlessly and hopelessly in the threshold. 

_Dog_ , his instincts labeled correctly. Enjolras knew the base scent well, from when Human’s Other Humans took theirs out for a walk. Human’s flat was two doors down from the elevator, and every morning when the sun hit his favourite spot by the living room rug, the patter of feet brought with it the rough _‘wuffs’_ and panting, and the wet- _Dog_ smell that soon disappeared with the chime of the elevator. 

Now Enjolras liked to be thought of as a good cat, understood personal sense of space, and gave Human a wide berth when it seemed he needed it. He localised his mess in the litter by the corner, cleaned and washed himself before and after meals. He fussed around at the little details Human seemed to _never_ be bothered with: the loose length of the living room blinds that hung to the floor, the empty shoeboxes Human carelessly left around in the flat (“Enjolras, I actually _need_ to use that box, _please_ get out of it!”). He woke Human up before that abysmal screeching he called ‘alarm’ (which sounded like an angry yowl) broke the stillness of morning, hoping to warn him of its inevitable and rather raucous arrival (which Human _never_ appreciated, it seemed, and Enjolras often wondered how this blundering giant would survive without him). He pestered his bipedal roommate tirelessly until the slow-witted fool conceded to his campaigns at interior decorating for maximum efficiency (“Oh god, I’m putting away the magazine rack, you’re destroying it!”) 

In short, everything was in its right place in his little kingdom. He and Human functioned as equals sharing a communal space, though it vexed him a bit how Human kept calling him ‘your highness’ and not, well, his _name_. But he was happy here, relatively, and it was warm, and the sun always cast the tiny study in brilliant morning light. 

Now, it seemed, the Disturbance would change it all. Enjolras flicked an ear in annoyance, keeping from jumping down from his perch despite his curiosity.

"I have a cat who’s very French, with the attitude too." Human was obviously talking to the Disturbance, who was making huffing noises that made Enjolras’s fur bristle slightly. "Don’t chase him around, okay?" 

Here he dug claws into the worn wood of Human’s desk in indignation. Like HELL he would let some unwashed, loud-breathing messy _newcomer_ undo all the work he’d done setting up Human’s apartment like so, let alone _chase_ him through it?

"No," Enjolras thought to himself with a decisive (agitated) lick of his paw. "I will show him around, show him how things are done." He was a responsible cat; if it fell to him to have one more gentle fool to care for, well, by Sekhmet he _would_ do his duty.

There was a happy bark that snapped through the small space like a shot, and the curiosity burning in Enjolras’s belly was too much to bear, so he leapt down on quiet pads and inched around the corner of the room—just to peek. The Disturbance was probably sharper than Enjolras took him for, because the curly lump of _Dog_ sniffed, stiffened, and turned towards him. With an annoyed twich of his whiskers, he relented, puffed out his chest and stuck his tail at a bristly full-mast, and made himself known. 

There was adoration in those eyes, Enjolras saw, the moment he made eye contact as he dodged Human’s clumsily outstretched hand (if he butted against it, Enjolras reasoned, he’d smell like _Dog_ ). There was awe, directed mostly at himself, and quite frankly he had no idea what to do with it. 

"I hope you get along with Grantaire, alright?" 

If he were a lesser feline, he would have hissed, but deciding that he would not let this trifle bother him more than it already did, he turned tail and strutted across the room. 

It didn’t occur to him until the next morning, when, to his great frustration both Human _and_ Grantaire were snoring loudly through the screeching alarm, that he was meant to show the _Dog_ around.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The crazy earthquake with the many aftershocks occurred around the time these were originally created on tumblr. This chapter is purely EK, for what it's worth, and dedicated to K.

Little Grantaire was used to shakes, trembles, and tumbles. It was the effect of being inside trash cans, transport boxes, cages, and large bathtubs most of young life, being inside animal shelters, dog pounds, and wandering around the streets. 

So when the floor of the Owner’s apartment shook left to right, then east and west, for quite a bit of a time, the puppy calmly planted his paws onto the floor and waited for the shaking to pass. The Owner was at work; he would be home as soon as he could be, Grantaire knew that. 

The puppy watched the pots and pans tremor and clang in their places, and watched as many of the mugs moved two inches inward. Some of the Owner’s wall frames dropped to the floor. The small bookshelf moved, dropping many books along with it. Some of the cans on the table dropped, dented, and opened. He savored some corned beef. 

Then all the trembling stopped, as he knew it eventually would. He patted the floor with a paw, and was assured that it was alright to move. 

He immediately ran up to the opened corned beef can and had his fill. He was hungry, and it was lunch, okay? 

Then he heard some quiet mewling. 

He sniffed. Beyond the salted beef he scented frightened princely young cat. 

He woofed. “Your highness?” 

He received no reply. 

He woofed again. “Are you alright, Enjolras?” 

"Why are you asking such a stupid question, you mongrel!" Grantaire heard trembled hissing from beyond a door. "The earth is moving!" 

"Not anymore it isn’t," Grantaire said. "Where are you?" the puppy asked, trotting across the living room and hopping over the fallen books. 

"None of your business!" the princely cat growled. 

Grantaire followed the scent to underneath the Owner’s bed. 

He tilted his head to peer down through the dusty place under the bed. Already the young cat had dust balls in his torso and left ear. 

"You can come out now, your highness," he woofed. 

But he spoke too soon. 

The shaking started again. Gentler, but longer. 

The princely cat’s fur was bristled and straight. His back was arched. His limbs quivered. His left ear had a small dust ball. His right torso had another. And yet the cat glared at the puppy staring at him with concern. 

"I do NOT need your help, your curly little smelly thing!" the cat declared, even as he quivered. 

"But you’re scared, your highness," the puppy replied. "It’ll be alright. We can both stay under the bed until it stops." 

"With YOU?!" Enjolras said. He backed away farther into the bed. 

The puppy smiled. He went down on his haunches, and scooted under the bed toward the cat. He loosened a few dust balls that stayed in his half-brushed curls. 

"See? I’ll be here with you, your princely-ness. And we’ll be alright," Grantaire promised. Beside the young cat, he flopped to his side with a grin. “I’ll take care of you, your highness.”

The young cat could not see how that could be done with the dog flopped on his side. And yet he could not help but scoot near the warm fluffy body close to him. A warmth in that shaking world, in that dark world under the bed. He could not help nuzzling down near the puppy’s warm chest, feeling his calmly beating heart. It assured him that, yes, maybe the dog was right and everything would soon be fine. He could not help keeping his head near that warm furry coat, that gentle beating heart.

The cat could not help closing his eyes, and waiting for the time to pass.


End file.
